


Some Vows Don't Need to be Spoken

by 12BarJaguar



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Growing Up, Growing Up Together, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, friends to family story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-13 06:19:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4511103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/12BarJaguar/pseuds/12BarJaguar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're both standing exactly where they were, but all the space seems to have closed between them.</p>
<p>  “Happy New Year,” Hermann says to the only person in his world at that moment.</p>
<p>Hermann and Vanessa: How they meet, how they stay together, how they grow apart, and how they make sure they’ll always be close. Told over the course of three and a half decades through snapshots of their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Solemn Vows

Hermann is 10 when his parents pack up and move to Britain. His father got offered a very prestigious job at Cambridge, and his mother was delighted to have an excuse to visit her homeland of Ireland more often - Since marrying Lars she had triple irish-british-german citizenship. Fourteen-year-old Dietrich sulks about his uprooted social life. 

“You will make new friends at your school,” His father tells him.

“But they will be English,” Dietrich complains. 

Hermann packs his spare violin in the trunk he will be taking to the boys’ school, quietly thinking that Tillo has nothing to worry about. They all learned English from their mother growing up so they won't have to worry about understanding the other students. Tillo's never had trouble talking to anyone in his life, and English friends will be better than no friends. 

He’s right. Their first week of school gives way to their first weekend visit home and Dietrich can’t shut up about how the teachers already love him, and the other students already look up to him, and he’s going to try out for this and that team, and how girls – not that he’s met any at an all boy’s school – definitely dig his accent. 

“How about you, Hermann?” His mother asks at dinner. 

“I found a good place to practice,” He says, avoiding what she was really asking about. 

Four-year old Bastien chooses that moment to throw his peas all over the floor and Hermann’s mother doesn’t get a chance to pursue her line of questioning before he’s cleared his plate and scurried away to the shed to hide in the precise measurements of wood and heady smell of modeling glue. 

New Years Eve 1999 is spent at a big Cambridge faculty party, which allows professors and deans to usher in the new millennium with their friends and family. Of course, the kids are kept separate and plied with crisps and fizzy drinks and movies while the parents laugh and drink and talk politics. The whole thing is painfully boring. 

Somewhere around 11:30 many of the younger children have started to nod off, wearing themselves out by being far too excited far too early in the evening to stay up till midnight. Hermann sees Dietrich and Karla slip away into the hallway. He follows them, avoiding the watchful eyes of their harried babysitters due to having been mostly unremarkable throughout the whole evening, sat in the corner with a pad of staff paper and a pencil, quietly composing. He sees his siblings step out of the building and he exits after them.

His older siblings are making their way through the college gardens, stifling their giggles poorly. Hermann stays in the shadows, sure that they’ve managed to secret a flask of something into the party. He stops walking when a small white flake catches him on the nose, and looks around. The garden is lit by warm orange lamplight that reflects gently from the snow falling silently around him. Diamond dust on New Years Eve. His siblings continue on undeterred, their laughter fading away into the night.

“People used to get married on the first day of the New Year.” 

Hermann whips around to see a young girl, probably about his age standing behind him. Bright white snowflakes catch in her wild dark hair and shine like stars. 

“My parents did,” She continues, “I was born in September.”

She puts her hands in the pocket of her overalls, which makes Hermann suddenly aware that her clothes are far too casual for a party at Cambridge; Blue jean overalls and a purple t-shirt with bright pink runners. His father wouldn’t let him out of the house without perfectly polished shoes, and a bowtie at his neck, plus he was also wearing a wool sweater over his pressed shirt.

He looks closer and he can see that besides the clothes, there is straw sticking out of the girl’s hair, and mud coating her shoes and a scabbed up scrape on her face, marring her perfectly smooth skin. Her accent says London and Hermann is afraid to answer lest she hears Smalltown Germany in his like the boys at school do.

“That’s nine months later,” She says when Hermann remains silent, “It takes babies nine months to grow. So tomorrow is the anniversary of the day they made me.”

Hermann is aware of the facts surrounding the process of the birth of babies, but he’s never given it much thought, until now. When he still doesn’t answer, the girl turns away, as though she’s given up on his silence. 

“I was made in September,” He blurts out. 

The girl stops and turns back. Her breath billows in the cool midnight air. 

“June ninth nineteen-eighty nine,” He says, painfully aware of his pronunciation, “That’s my birthday. So I was made in September nineteen-eighty eight.”

“That’s when I was born,” The girl says as she smiles.

They're both standing exactly where they were, but all the space seems to have closed between them. 

His watch beeps and he doesn’t have to look at it to know it’s ticking over from 11:59 to 12:00. The low level murmur of voices from inside the college rises in a celebratory swell and somewhere in the town fireworks crack and boom. 

“Happy New Year,” Hermann says to the only person in his world at that moment.

The girl approaches, stepping into his personal space. She’s taller than Hermann and so she leans down a bit to stick her nose right next to his and he has to fight the urge to step back. She kisses him, her lips cold, and Hermann can smell cherry lip balm and grass stains. 

She steps back and takes his arm, “This means we’re married now,” She informs him, steering him into a walk around the gardens. The snow eases up and the moon peeks out from behind a cloud.

Hermann can’t help thinking that they’re too old for these kinds of childish games, and then he wonders if it even is a game. Maybe here in England you really do marry the first girl you kiss on New Years, and your babies are born in September. 

“I’m Hermann Gottlieb,” he says, because if they’re married now they should probably know each other’s name.

“Vanessa Hallman,” She responds with as much formal stiffness as he had given her. Then she shivers. 

Hermann doesn’t have to ask if she is cold. He stops and takes his arm away to wriggle out of his tight sweater. He musses up his hair and untucks his shirt and dishevels his bowtie, but he doesn’t care. He hands the sweater to Vanessa. It’s a little too short at her wrists but she looks immediately warmer once she’s pulled it on. 

“See, that’s what married people do,” She says, “We look out for each other.”

 

Hermann doesn’t believe her until it’s spring, and the boys in his class are making a nominally supervised trip to the shops in town of an afternoon. Hermann falls behind, too engrossed in a book he’d found in the library; improbably, a German translation of an English text in an English Public school library. His teachers forget about him as he turns down a back alley to be alone.

James and Matt step out of a doorway as he walks past. 

“German Hermann, what are you reading?” Matt asks, singsong at Hermann’s elbow. 

“Ender’s Game,” He responds, too surprised by their sudden appearance to be properly sarcastic. 

“That doesn’t say Ender’s Game,” James says at his other elbow, cocking his head to read the title, “It says 'Dat Grobe Shpeel.'”

“ _Das Große Spiel_ ,” Hermann corrects. 

“Sorry, I don’t speak Nazi,” James says.

He steps into Hermann with his shoulder, which causes Hermann to bump into Matt. Matt pushes him away and Hermann stumbles, dropping the book into a puddle. He stops to pick it up and it’s soaking wet. Probably ruined.

“Damn, Hermann, I thought Nazi’s burned books, not drowned them.” Matt cackles at his own wit. 

“Do you know what we do to Nazi’s who can’t respect books?” James asks. They’ve both stopped walking directly in front of him. 

At this point Hermann is angrier than he’s ever been for several reasons – not the least of which being that his family had, in fact, been persecuted by the Nazi’s, not beloved of them. So he says something stupid: 

“Sit back with your thumbs up your arse while they gas millions of Jews?” 

He hears the first punch rather than sees it just before it connects with his ear. He doesn’t notice the second punch until he’s doubled up and gasping. The next few blows become a blur as he curls up on the ground, trying to protect his head. All he can think is that Ender killed a boy for trying to do this, but all Hermann can do is lie there and take it. 

Suddenly, there’s a shout, and then the blows stop. Hermann peeks through his arms in time to see James hit the ground hard. His elbow makes a loud crack as it connects with the concrete, and James lets out a startled cry. Then he’s scrambled to his feet and is running after Matt, and the two bullies take off down the alley.

A hand touches his shoulder and Hermann kicks out reflexively. 

“Ow!” A girl’s voice complains, “You’re supposed to thank me, not kick me.” 

Hermann sits up. 

“Vanessa?” He asks, but he doesn’t really need an answer. 

There she is, kneeling beside him. Her hair is just as wild as it was that night, only now she’s got a butterfly clip in it instead of snow. She’s wearing a school uniform with a boy’s tie but the same pink sneakers. There’s a new scuff on her face, bleeding just the tiniest bit. 

“Hermann?” She asks in return, obviously surprised. 

They haven’t seen each other since 1:00am on New Years day, when Hermann’s parents had come into the gardens looking for him and his siblings, and he’d climbed down from the tree he and Vanessa had been sat in. 

“I’ll see you around,” She had whispered. At the time he though she’d been lying, just saying the thing you’re supposed to say to make goodbyes that little bit easier. 

Now Vanessa helps him up. He avoids her eyes, looking down at the ground and catching sight of the book. It’s definitely ruined now, some of the pages are scattered, soaking in the puddle. His ear hurts, his stomach and ribs hurt. Hermann tries not to cry. 

“Come to my house,” Vanessa says, “I still have your jumper.” 

Hermann follows her wordlessly. 

She lives on a Council Estate on the twelfth floor, and the elevator is out of order. By the time they’ve climbed all the stairs Hermann really is crying from the pain. Vanessa doesn’t say anything, just ushers him in the door. 

“Gram’s, I’m home,” She yells, dumping hers and Hermann’s bags in the hallway, “I’ll make tea!” 

She points Hermann to a couch then disappears into a tiny kitchen. He sits on it gratefully, wipes his tears on his shirtsleeves and tries to take shallow breaths. 

An old woman in a bright green dressing gown and matching slippers shuffles out of another room. If she’s surprised to find a strange boy in her home she doesn’t show it. She sits down in a frayed armchair and turns on the TV. 

“Would you rather watch Countdown or Jeopardy?” She asks him. Her face is wrinkled and her smile only partially toothed. 

“Countdown,” Hermann says, ashamed of how his voice cracks from crying. 

He uses the math portion of the show to distract himself from the pain and the passage of time, even if it is extremely easy. He must be successful because he’s surprised when Vanessa reappears so quickly with three plates of beans, eggs and toast and three mugs of tea. She takes a look at Hermann and then makes one more trip to the kitchen, coming back with a handful of ice wrapped in a tea towel. He takes it from her uncertainly. 

“Put it where it hurts most for a few minutes,” She tells him. She never once asked him if he was hurt. But then, he supposes, she didn’t have to.

He puts it against his ribs, holding it in place with his elbow as he eats his toast. 

Vanessa walks him back to his school later. They stop just in front of the gates and look at the imposing stone architecture, lit by the light spilling out of many windows. He’s feeling much better after he’s iced his bruises and put some food and paracetamol in his stomach

“That’s mine,” Hermann says, pointing to a window on the ground floor, “I share it with a boy who hates when I practice so I have to go to the theatre to play my fiddle,” he indicates a smaller building attached to the larger school by a narrow stone-roofed path, “I’m not supposed to go in there, so I have to sneak in the middle of the night.” 

“How do you get in?” Vanessa asks. 

So he shows her. It’s easy enough to jiggle the faulty latch on the backstage door and then feel your way through the dark to the props room. He flicks the ancient light switch, illuminating a room filled with leather armor and foam swords and cheap prop dresses, all covered in cobwebs and dust. 

When he finally goes back to his dormitory, he gets in trouble for being late and for coming back dirty. He doesn’t care, because Matt and James shoot him alarmed looks when he is marched down the hallway by the history teacher and James’ arm is in a sling. Hermann is happy to have someone to look out for him, even if that someone is a girl. Vanessa never does return his jumper.

 

For the next two years, Hermann and Vanessa use the old theatre as their meeting place. They spend hours playing in the evenings, dressing up as kings and pirates and monsters. Sometimes Hermann plays the fiddle, which is how he learns that Vanessa can sing. Hermann’s been a musical prodigy since he was five years old, but even he can’t sing like her. Music pours out of Vanessa’s mouth like she was born in the middle of an orchestra. She doesn’t know how to read music though, doesn’t know the names of the harmonies she makes with Hermann’s violin, doesn’t know the mathematical regularity that is a sixteenth note, and doesn’t want to learn. 

When one of them can’t make it to the theatre for whatever reason, they leave notes for each other. Hermann starts writing in a code based on musical notation. 

Vanessa isn’t particularly bothered with being delicate, like other girls. She’s scrappy, and quick to throw her weight around, even in play. Vanessa teaches Hermann how to stand up for himself, until one day when Hermann is 12, James is the one being pinned down by Hermann, not the other way around. They’re alone in the changing room, and Hermann thinks again about Ender’s Game. It would be too easy. 

Then James reaches up, pulls Hermann’s head close and kisses him. Hermann is absolutely astounded, since one of the names James had taken to calling him after ‘Nazi’ had worn out, was faggot. He’s also astounded at how nice it feels. 

Hermann runs out of the changing room. It was just a kiss, he tells himself as he goes about his day. It didn’t mean anything.

James makes up for it by being especially horrible to Hermann for the last two weeks remaining of term. But every time he’s shoved against a locker or called out loudly in the hallways, Hermann remembers the press of James’ lips against his. 

 

Hermann’s is about to turn 13 when his parents divorce. Lars remains in Cambridge, but Maurine moves to London and Karla and Bastien go with her. Dietrich and Hermann stay to go to school in Cambridge; Dietrich is already planning his college application. Then Vanessa’s gran dies, just before Christmas. Heart attack. 

“I’m going to London to live with my mum,” She tells Hermann in the theatre on the last day before term ends, “I came here when she went to jail, but she’s out now.”

“Do you want to go?” He asks.

Vanessa shrugs, “I don’t have anywhere else.”

“I’ll see you around,” Hermann whispers in the dark as they turn off the lights. 

He fights with his father desperately to be allowed to go to London. Lars is adamant that his son stays with him to finish his schooling. Hermann is adamant that he can’t learn anything useful from such a bunch of sots as the boys’ high schools in Cambridge, but he doesn't really have a good argument for the schools in London either.

It’s Dietrich who eventually comes to his aid. He and Hermann are driving to London to spend Hanukkah with their mother and siblings. When Hermann climbs in, Dietrich’s tiny car is loaded with far more bags than they’d need for a weeklong stay. 

“Tillo,” Hermann says, after they’ve been driving for a while, and he’s had a chance to covertly inspect the luggage, “Why did you pack my violin?” 

“When I go back to Cambridge, you’re staying in London with mutter,” He says, more determined than his 17 years would suggest, “I’m bringing Bastien back with me so _vader_ doesn’t go apeshit.” 

Lars goes apeshit anyways, but Maurine sides with her sons and stubbornly insists that Hermann stays with her. Dietrich and Bastien return to Doctor Gottlieb in Cambridge. Karla and Hermann stay in London.

Hermann finds Vanessa on New Years Day by phoning nearly every Hallman in the phone book. When they’re finally reunited, she gives him a rumpled piece of paper.

“Christmas present,” she says by way of explanation. 

Hermann unfolds it and reads it over in amazement. It’s a bit of music, written haltingly on hand-drawn music staffs. A completely new composition, written by her titled “I’m a Songwriter and I Didn’t Even Know It (Thank You Hermann Gottlieb)”.

But she gave him another present too; the boys and girls at Hermann’s new school in London don’t know that he’s German. Through their years of make-believe and private conversations, without him even knowing it, Vanessa taught him how to talk like a Londoner.


	2. Silent Words

Hermann is 15 when Vanessa gets kicked out of home by her mother. She doesn’t say, and Hermann doesn’t ask, but he knows it’s because Vanessa went out and got her lip pierced, shaved her hair into a fauxhawk, and brought home a date named Crystal. He knows her mother screamed at her, and suspects that she also hit her. When Hermann goes to meets her at the tube station, he already knows that Crystal will be nowhere to be seen.

“She fucked off right around the time my mom started calling on Jesus to make me see the light,” Vanessa tells him, “I told her Jesus wasn’t real.”

“I agree with you about Jesus, though probably not for the same reason,” Hermann responds, “I never liked her anyways.” He doesn’t specify which ‘her’ he is talking about, but he doesn’t really have to. 

Hermann brings Vanessa home to stay with him. His mother welcomes her with open arms, on the condition that Vanessa sleeps in Karla’s room, not his. Hermann and Vanessa can’t help looking at each other and laughing. 

“ _Mutter_ , she is like a sister to me,” Hermann says. 

“Well then,” Maurine is unimpressed, “She can stay in your sister’s room.” 

Karla doesn’t seem to mind the intrusion. In fact, the two girls get on well enough to gang up on Hermann now and then. But Karla is also seventeen years old, busy with friends and her new job and either doesn’t notice or doesn’t say anything when Vanessa ends up sneaking into Hermann’s room on the third night and continues to sleep on his floor for the rest of the week. 

“Even if your sister cared, which she doesn’t, I’m not exactly the straightest tree on the street,” Vanessa tells Hermann late one night when he’s fretting about them being caught, “It’s not like we’re having sex in here.”

In fact they’re playing Star Wars: Battlefront on Dietrich’s old xbox with the tv muted. Vanessa is wiping the floor with him (and therefore, in a stunning turn of events, the Republic is winning the Clone Wars). Hermann laments the fact that he never could get Vanessa into Star Trek. 

“They don’t know you’re a lesbian,” Hermann says, “If my mom walks in here while we’re asleep –“

“They don’t know _you’re_ gay,” Vanessa interrupts him, “I’m sick of trying to hide who I am.” 

“Fine then. Go tell my family about how much you love women,” Hermann mutters caustically.

“I will,” Vanessa responds cheerily as she puts a laser blast through Hermann’s Super Battledroid head. 

The next morning she makes breakfast for the four of them. 

“That’s very kind of you, Vanessa,” Maurine thanks her as she places two perfect eggs on her plate.

“I’m a lesbian,” Vanessa responds. 

Hermann nearly chokes on his toast. 

“Duh,” Karla says. 

“Well you fry a lovely egg, dear,” Says Hermann’s mother. And that’s that. 

 

Hermann is 16 when he stays out all night with a ‘friend’ named Rahul. When he’s caught sneaking back in he panics and stumbles painfully obviously over his mother’s question of, “And just what is her name?”

“It was Rani, wasn’t it?” Vanessa asks him. She’s not living with them anymore, exactly, but Maurine has always made her welcome in their home, and Vanessa makes breakfast in the morning in return. She’s at the stove frying eggs. 

Hermann is grounded, but not outed. Not just yet.

 

Vanessa holds him when he cries drunkenly sixth months later, as his mother has a furious German argument with his father in the next room. Lars had come in to London that evening to visit, and just happened to be driving by the pub where Rahul and Hermann were making out against a wall. Lars had dragged Hermann into the car and Rahul had very wisely immediately called Vanessa. She didn’t bother knocking on the front door, just climbed right in through Hermann’s window onto his bed.

She doesn’t know what his parents are saying, and she doesn’t ask. But then, she doesn’t have to. 

Lars barges unceremoniously into Hermann’s room, followed by Maurine, Karla and ten-year old Bastien, who had come to London with Lars. It’s not clear what Lars had been intending to do because he is brought up short by the dark-skinned girl on the bed, glaring at him over the shoulder of his sobbing son. 

“Walk out of here, old man,” Vanessa says, “Go back to not being involved in Hermann’s life. He likes it better that way.” 

“Don’t tell me what my son likes,” Lars says, “Not when he is drinking illegally and…dallying with boys.” He takes a step into the room.

“If you touch him right now in anger, I will feed your bollocks to you on the end of a cricket bat,” Vanessa’s voice is impossibly hard.

Lars splutters. 

“I’ll get the bat,” Karla says. Hermann had never been aware of how much he loved her until that moment.

Maurine grabs Lars’ arm and pulls him from the room. 

Hermann has never asked about Vanessa’s father. He’s never had to.

 

Hermann is turning eighteen when he’s accepted into _die Technischen Universität Berlin_. He leaves London in August and Vanessa comes with him to help him move in. It takes her two days to decide to stay. She manages to finagle her music scholarship to include studying abroad and gets accepted into the Berlin University of the Arts. They both start the 2007 term in September. 

Hermann keeps her in school by giving her a crash course in German and augmenting her terrible study habits with his impeccable ones. Vanessa draws Hermann out of his shell by dragging him with her whenever she goes out to the pub with her new classmates. They’re so close to each other that their new friends all assume they are dating. Even when they reveal that they are far from a couple, it quickly becomes a recurring joke that gay best friends Hermann and Vanessa are going to marry each other. 

Hermann had dumped his last boyfriend unceremoniously when he announced he was going back to Germany, and Vanessa never does manage to stay interested in a girl for long. Hermann’s not particularly welcoming about human touch, but when he and Vanessa finish studying, flop onto the couch and put a movie on TV, it’s only natural for them to lie down, for Vanessa to put her head on his shoulder and her arm around him. It’s the same way they used to sleep whenever Vanessa stayed over at his house. They’re not attracted to each other, and maybe that’s why they are absolutely comfortable with it. 

“Perhaps we really should get married,” he says as he clasps the hand she’s placed on his chest. 

“If we don’t find anyone else, I will absolutely marry you, Hermann Gottlieb.” 

“Don’t wait for me, dear,” He says, placing a kiss on her hand. 

 

Hermann is 24, a doctorate of engineering a year into becoming a tenured professor at TUB, visiting his mother in London. He’s making the both of them tea when he gets a frantic call from Vanessa. She’s speaking a panicked mix of English and German, but he manages to parse her command to turn on the TV. He watches first in disbelief, then in growing horror as the shaky phone camera footage of a giant monster tears through the golden gate bridge like so many toothpicks plays on the BBC and the newsman repeats in shock: “This is not a joke. This is really happening”

“Hermann?” Vanessa says over the phone line, “They’ve stopped air traffic. I’m stuck in Vancouver.” She had gone there to sing. Her favourite thing about being a singer is that she gets to travel.

“Are you alone?” He whispers.

“No,” She whispers back, “I’ve met somebody. I’m at her place.” 

“What’s her name?” He’s asking partially to make sure she’s safe, and partially to keep himself from falling into the numbness of shock as the monster on-screen knocks over a building and the camera is engulfed in dust.

“Sally Yoshida. She’s Canadian,” Vanessa says like that’s the most important thing in the world right now. 

“Good. You’ll both need someone tonight.”

“I’ll come home as soon as I can,” Vanessa says. 

“Maybe you will bring your Canadian with you,” He says. 

He’s not sure which one of them is lying – just saying the thing you say to make goodbyes easier. Everything has changed now. 

 

Hermann is 27 when Vanessa gets married. He can’t attend the wedding, still confined to a hospital bed in Hong Kong. She calls him on her wedding day, May 3 2016. 

“I didn’t wait for you, Hermann,” She tells him, and he can see the tears in her eyes over the video connection.

“Well, what did I tell you? Don’t apologize,” Hermann says, “Are you alright?” 

She smiles through her tears, “Happy. And Scared.” 

“Don’t worry, lieb. You’ll do fine. And if Sally hurts you, I’ll fly all the way to Canada to kick her arse.” 

Vanessa laughs and says she loves him, and Hermann wishes her luck. She doesn’t ask about the cane hanging off the headboard of his hospital bed. He doesn’t mention being sorry he can’t walk her down the aisle. 

 

Hermann is 28 and yelling to Vanessa over a patchy phone connection, leaning heavily on his cane as he paces his room. He’s wearing his giant, goose down parka because it’s bloody cold on base, even in the instructor’s quarters. 

“He’s selfish and so, so childish,” He snarls, “And just an utterly insufferable person to be with. Do you know what he calls me?” 

“What does he call you, babe?” Vanessa asks. She doesn’t sound bored, so much as entirely apathetic to his theatrics. 

“ _Igel_ ,” Hermann spits out. 

She laughs, “Well you are very prickly.” 

“He’s known me all of two weeks! And I’m his superior yet he’s so incredibly disrespectful.” 

“Maybe it’s a term of endearment. And Geiszler has known you for three years, actually, even if you were only Internet friends.” 

“Well he’s a completely different monster in person,” Hermann says waspishly. 

“What’s the word on your discipline thing?” Vanessa asks, and now he can hear the concern in her voice. 

“Still pending hearing,” Hermann sighs, “I suppose they were nice in giving me the courtesy of allowing me time to recover.” 

“It’s still discriminatory!” Vanessa is outraged on his behalf, “Have you talked to your siblings?” 

“Not since March,” He says stiffly, “I fail to see how that is relevant.”

“Karla called. She didn’t even know you were back in Alaska.” 

“That’s funny, since I’m pretty sure it was father’s idea to send me back to this godforsaken hellhole.” 

“I know you’re embarrassed, and angry and beating yourself up for no reason Hermann, but they’d really like to hear your side of the story from you.” 

“There’s nothing to tell,” Hermann says, clattering his cane against his desk, “I was unreachable while off-duty, and therefore unable to report to my assigned post at the time of a Kaiju breach. It’s bad enough I have to explain myself to a court-martial when it’s nobody’s business why.”

“Holy fuck,” He hears a different voice on the other line exclaim, “Tell that stupid bro of yours that his family is worried about him and it wouldn’t kill him to call them more than every ten fucking months.”

Hermann grinds his teeth, “Vanessa, tell your wife to mind her own damn business.” 

“Honey, tell your brother to get that stick out of his ass,” Sally responds.

He’s never understood why the media makes a point about Canadian accents. Sally sounds exactly like a rude American to him.

“This is family business, Hermann,” Vanessa says patiently, “Sally has a point. Karla says that if you don’t call her, she and Bastien are going to come over to the Proving Grounds and drag your pale arse out into the snow.” 

“I’d rather be crushed in a Kaiju attack again.”

“Hermann, don’t say that. Don’t you fucking say that, you hear me?” 

“I’m sorry,” He mutters. Vanessa rarely swears. Maybe she’s picking up some bad habits from that foul-mouthed spouse of hers.

“Talk to Geiszler. I bet you haven’t told him anything about what happened in Hong Kong and he’s confused as to why his pen pal is suddenly a bitter, prickly hedgehog now that you’ve met in-person.”

“I’ve got to go.” 

“And call your goddamn sister, Gottlieb!” Vanessa yells as he pulls the phone away from his ear and ends the call. 

 

Hermann is 30 when Vanessa phones him in the middle of the night. 

He’s back in Hong Kong, despite how much he’d rather not be. She’s in Toronto, has been since Karloff attacked Vancouver and the Canadian government moved literally everyone to the other side of the rockies. Sally was born in Vancouver, but she seems happy enough to be in the middle of the country, safe from the marauding Kaiju tearing up the Pacific coastline. 

“It’s a girl,” She says. 

“ _Glückwunsch_ ,” Hermann says, struggling to wake up, “That’s fantastic, lieb.” 

“It’s my wife you should be congratulating,” Says Vanessa and she sounds like she’s practically glowing, “She’s the one who did all the work.” 

“What have you named her?”

“Eliza Yoshida. Liz.” 

“I expect lots of pictures,” He says into the dark. 

The phone on his stomach immediately lights up the room with an incoming text message. He picks it up to squint through the glare at a picture, a woman of Japanese ancestry in a hospital bed holding a tiny dark-haired bundle of a baby. 

“Beautiful,” Hermann breathes into the line, “Send Sally my love, and tell Liz I said hello!” 

“Will do _onkel_ Hermann.”

His phone buzzes every few minutes that day at work. Newton stares at him in astonishment every time he pauses in the middle of an equation on the chalkboard to look at it. Hermann doesn’t care. Every buzz is an incoming picture of Liz. 

He wonders when he stopped telling Newton everything and he doesn’t have to wonder far; the root of the problem dates back to when he was last in Hong Kong. His phone buzzes again and this time he puts his chalk down to pick up his cane and lope over to Newton’s side of the lab. Doctor Samara, who is also sharing the lab, looks up from her computer, interested in what would cause one of them to break the self-imposed quarantine between them. 

Newton glances up from his dissection and does a double take to find Hermann so close. He stops and takes one of his gloves off. 

“What are you smiling about?” He asks suspiciously. 

Hermann hands Newton the phone and hits play. It’s a video of Liz and Vanessa. 

Newton squeaks and claps a hand to his mouth. 

“Oh my god, you didn’t tell me Vanessa was pregnant!” 

“Well Sally was the one who carried the baby,” Hermann says, motioning for his phone back. 

Newton ignores Hermann’s hand, taking this opportunity to swipe back through Hermann’s recent pictures. 

“Holy shit Hermann, this is like the cutest baby and they’re like the cutest moms, and oh my god you’re like an uncle now right? Wow, congrats!” 

Newton finally hands the phone back to Hermann, matching the intensity of his grin. Hermann brings the phone to Dr. Samara to show Liz off some more. He wears a smile on his face for the rest of the week. 

 

Hermann is 34 when Vanessa comes to Hong Kong. He goes to meet her at the airport and gets crushed in her hug at the arrivals gate. She’s always been bigger than him, and she’d put on weight while he’d lost it over the last decade, but it doesn’t matter. He gives as good as he gets until they’re a mess of tears and smiles and almost-bruises and hastily dropped luggage. 

They go out to dinner in what looks like a hole-in-the-wall but what Hermann has learned from one Newton Geiszler is actually the place to go for Xiaolongbao in Hong Kong. He orders in relatively flawless mandarin. Gott knows he’s been here long enough to pick it up.

“Ten years, Hermann,” Vanessa says, like he isn’t already painfully aware that they haven’t seen each other since before K-Day. Phone calls and emails just don’t cut it when so much has changed.

“A lot can happen,” Is the only thing Hermann can think to say to that. 

“I’ve gotten married, had a kid, and you,” Vanessa points a chopstick at him, “Have been wasting away over here, saving the world.” 

“I wouldn’t put it quite so dramatically, but yes.” 

“Have you found anybody since that journalist the last time you were here?” 

Hermann pauses with a bao halfway to his mouth. That incident in particular is not his favourite topic. Plus she hasn’t asked him about his sex life in…well ever. But then, she hadn’t needed to. 

“There was a man in Sydney,” He responds reluctantly. 

“You left Sydney three years ago,” She tells him, “What about Geiszler? Are you still his >igel?” 

“I am his nothing. We just happen to be unfortunately circumstantial lab partners.”

“But you love him,” She states without a hint of a question in her voice. 

Hermann puts the bao into his mouth and chews. He thinks about the years he and Newt spent as pen-pals, first emailing back and forth about research and then about anything and everything in their lives. He thinks about the falling out they had when Hermann didn’t respond to Newt, didn’t respond to anyone except Vanessa for ten months in 2016. He thinks about meeting Newton, finally, for the first time in Alaska and how neither of them lived up to the others expectations. 

He thinks about being in L.A. when Yamarashi attacked and having flashbacks of that night in Hong Kong when Reckoner had tore through the city and the city had torn through him. He thinks about being transferred to Sydney after L.A. and being nearly relieved to see Newton again, until their tentative friendship soured when a week later Newton came into work with Yamarashi on his arm. He remembers his confusion and hurt when two months later he came in with Reckoner on his other arm. That was five years ago and he still can’t tell if Newton meant it as a dig or some sort of strange show of solidarity that his two first tattoos were the two Kaiju who came closest to killing Hermann.

“Only as much as I hate him,” Hermann finally tells Vanessa. 

“You hate him a lot,” She points out. 

“Well there you go. I’d really rather if you didn’t worry about how much sex I am or am not having.” 

“You deserve to be happy, hedgehog,” 

“How is Liz?” Hermann changes the subject. 

“She likes to draw and everything’s fair game; walls, furniture, herself. Honestly I’d rather if she just scribbled over herself, at least she’s easy enough to clean.” 

“She sounds like one of your girlfriends from TUB - Caroline? Look at that, four years old and already an art student.” 

Vanessa laughs so hard she kicks him under the table.

“So when are you two having another one?” Hermann asks, but only because it’s the thing you say. 

“Actually,” Vanessa says, “I have an ulterior motive for this trip.” 

“Oh?” 

“I came here to find a willing donor.” 

Hermann looks at her in confusion until he catches her meaning. 

“What, me?” 

 

Hermann is 36 when Liz calls him. He reaches over Newton’s still-snoring head and snatches the phone from the nightstand. 

“What is it love, is everything all right?” He asks worriedly. He sits up in bed, disturbing Newton enough to wake him up. He doesn’t activate his phone camera, lest he accidentally subject his niece to the potentially scarring image of two shirtless men, one of whom has enough tattoos to keep a circus in business, and the other one pale and scarred. 

On the other end the camera is on and pointed at the six year old's belly. He gets dizzy watching it oscillate until she manages to get her head into frame. Her hair is messy like she just woke up and she’s got one finger in her mouth. 

“Umm,” She says in her Canadian accent, “Mommy told me to tell you that it was a boy.” 

Newton sticks his head up next to Hermann’s so he can watch the screen as on the other end someone takes the phone from Liz. Then they’re looking at Sally as she laughs and rolls her eyes. 

“She meant to say it is a boy, healthy and whole. Now hurry up and get your clothes on so we can see your reaction when I show him to you.” 

“Better do as the woman says, Herms,” Newt tells him. 

They hurriedly put on something mildly appropriate and sit together on the bed as they turn on the camera. 

“Looks like somebody had a fun night,” Sally teases them, “Ok uncles, you ready?” 

“Show us the goods, Yoshida,” Newton answers for Hermann, who is too busy being a confusing mixture of excited and terrified to say anything. 

They watch as the camera is walked down a hallway and into a bedroom – at least that’s the assumption, since the only view they get is Sally’s chin and the ceiling above her. There’s the sound of her sitting down on the bed and then she’s leaning into someone and Sally, Vanessa and a tiny bundle are framed in the lens. Vanessa looks tired and worn out and positively beautiful as she smiles. 

“Hermann Gottlieb, meet Owain Hallman,” She says and she opens the bundle to reveal a tiny, dark-cheeked infant with wide brown eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are several references to other fic in here, but I wrote this so long ago and read them even longer ago that I can't remember where they all come from. If you see something you recognize please let me know, I'll give it a shout out. 
> 
> I chose not to spell out the incident regarding Reckoner and Hong Kong. I was going into it in more detail in another thing I was writing, but I think it works like this for this piece. Tell me if it's confusing!

**Author's Note:**

> This came out of my interpretation that Vanessa was listed as Hermann's wife in his personnel file due to some bureaucratic mix-up - which subsequently morphed into something more. Has some elements later that are related to a larger story I was working on (which probably won't get put up) but they shouldn't be too far out in left field.


End file.
